


As Darkness Falls

by FirefliesAndFallingStars



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Post-Episode: s02e21-22 Twilight of the Apprentice, Post-Malachor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7145900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirefliesAndFallingStars/pseuds/FirefliesAndFallingStars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Slowly, Ezra turns, and Sabine gives an involuntary shudder.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>She still can’t bring herself to look into those yellow eyes.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“Leave.” His gaze burns with anger.. “Or I won’t have a choice.”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Sabine clenches her fists, fingernails cutting into her palms through the thin material of her gloves. Her instincts are screaming for her to run.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>But she’s not leaving.</i>
</p><p>After Ezra falls to the darkness and the rest of the crew loses hope of bringing him back, Sabine confronts him alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Darkness Falls

**Author's Note:**

> More angst. My next story might be a little happier, but honestly, hurt/comfort and angst are just what I'm good at. My action scenes are choppy at best, and I don't currently have enough of a plot for a longer adventure-type story anyway. 
> 
> I'm actually not hoping for Dark Ezra in canon. I want Ezra to follow his own storyline, not Anakin's. But this occurred to me and I'd been wanting to do something from Sabine's POV, so here it is. (This is meant to be space siblings, not shippy.) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Part of Sabine suspects Kanan’s right—that she can’t bring Ezra back.

The other part _knows_ he’s right.

But she can’t turn back now.

“Ezra?” she calls, just loud enough for the small black-cloaked figure on the edge of the cliff to hear her.

His shoulders tense under the cloak, but he doesn’t move.

Sabine takes a step forward, then another.

She feels vulnerable without the comforting weight of blasters in her hands, without detonators in her pockets or smoke bombs on her belt or even her airbrushes in her satchel.

Slowly, the boy on the cliff turns, and Sabine gives an involuntary shudder.

She still can’t bring herself to look into those yellow eyes.

“Leave.” His gaze burns with anger, and his voice is a low hiss. “Or I won’t have a choice.”

Sabine clenches her fists, fingernails cutting into her palms through the thin material of her gloves. Her instincts are screaming for her to run.

But she’s not leaving.

However different he seems, this is still Ezra. 

She forces herself to take another step forward. 

He pulls his lightsaber from his belt and ignites it. The brilliant red light of the blade casts an eerie crimson glow over his face.

Sabine instinctively reaches for her blasters—then stops herself. Forces her hands back to her sides.

He doesn’t miss it, though, and his eyes darken.

Could she run now?

He might let her go, might let her retreat to the Phantom and Chopper and safety.

But Sabine can’t leave. Not now.

So she stands there, frozen, as he advances.

In her mind, she whispers a silent goodbye to the others.

_You tried to warn me. I’m sorry._

She remembers Kanan after he was forced to duel his former apprentice, telling them Ezra was gone; remembers Zeb catching her the first time she tried to slip away; remembers Hera’s frantic voice on the comm after Sabine left.

Why didn’t she listen?

Ezra raises his saber, and she closes her eyes, waiting for the final blow.

It doesn’t come.

She hears the soft buzz of the saber as he lowers it.

And when she opens her eyes, he’s standing there with his saber at his side, watching her. 

Sabine swears there’s a thread of blue amid the yellow of his irises. 

His finger flicks the lightsaber’s switch, and the blade hisses as it retracts.

He can’t kill her, she realizes. 

Somehow, Ezra’s still in there, inside this shell of who he used to be.

“Just kill me.” His voice is harsh, gasping. “Now. Before I hurt you.”

She’s frozen for a moment as the realization of what he’s asking sinks in, and then her blood turns cold.

“Do it, Sabine!” he begs, seeing the horror on her face.

“No.” She shakes her head firmly. “You’re coming back with me. Alive.”

“Sabine, you don’t get it,” Ezra protests. “If I snap again—“

“You’re not going to.”

She throws her arms around him before he can react, and he stumbles back a few inches, completely stunned. 

When she releases him, he’s shaking a little.

Whether it’s the darkness taking over or sobs building—or both—she can’t tell.

He starts to say something, and for a moment she almost thinks it might be over—and then he falls onto his knees, trembling violently. 

When he looks up again, his eyes are yellow, and his hand is creeping for his saber as he stands.

But Sabine doesn’t back down.

For a moment, he was there.

She’s not giving up now. Not when she just came so close.

“Ezra, listen to me. Maul’s using you. _Fight back_.” 

There’s a moment of conflict as the two sides of him struggle.

But the darkness wins.

He activates his saber, and the crimson of the blade reflects in his eyes.

“Ezra, _stop!_ ” Sabine pleads. “This isn’t you!” 

“You had your chance,” he growls. “You aren’t getting another.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Her voice shakes, and she doesn’t even try to suppress it.

“Then you’ll die,” he snarls, raising the lightsaber.

The blade swings, and this time Sabine doesn’t close her eyes.

Her gaze stays fixed on Ezra’s face as the blade stops abruptly mere centimeters from her neck, its heat making her skin prickle.

And she sees the tears filling his eyes as he realizes what he almost did.

He deactivates his lightsaber. And then he throws it to the ground and slams his boot into the hilt, making it fizzle and spark, and kicks the pieces over the edge of the cliff.

When he looks up at her again, the yellow is slowly fading from his irises as brilliant blue returns.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Sabine manages a weak smile. “You don’t have to be.”

She wraps her arms around him and holds him as the sobs wrack his body, and she finally lets herself break down, crying into his hair. 

It’s a long time before either one of them lets go.


End file.
